


Cherry and Vanilla

by Baroness_Blixen



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, i think they might be in love, mulder is crazy, scully's got a new perfume
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-16 08:01:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18090512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baroness_Blixen/pseuds/Baroness_Blixen
Summary: When Scully changes her perfume, Mulder can't stop wondering why - and it leads to a very awkward situation.





	Cherry and Vanilla

The inky night sky slowly lifts its curtains to reveal a new, yellow and orange-hued morning. Mulder yawns, rubs his eyes and stumbles to the bathroom as if he’s just woken from a night of heavy drinking. The only shots he’s downed, though, are intoxicating thoughts. Glasses full of doubts, questions and fears, all night long.

He throws cold water into his face, his body momentarily shocked awake. It doesn’t last. The sluggishness returns as he puts the toothbrush into his mouth. He walks through his bedroom, to his kitchen, to make coffee. The toothbrush dangles from his mouth, drops of turquoise mint dribbling on his countertop. Mulder, however, doesn’t care. His mind, as it has been for the last couple of hours, is busy with thoughts of Scully. That in itself is nothing new; she’s the starring lady in most of his day and night dreams. What’s new, though, is the reason. The reason being that she’s changed her perfume. Just like that.

He noticed it late in the day, in the early afternoon, after lunch. Scully gathered the empty plastic containers of their Chinese takeout and when she reached for his napkin, slightly out of way, and right into his personal space, he caught a whiff of it and froze. In the years he’s known her, her perfume has always been subtle. Hints of citrus, sometimes apple, but always fresh, were what he came to think of Scully scents. This, however, was new. So new in fact that for a moment he forgot to breathe at all. Then, as if afraid he’d never get the chance to smell her ever again, he took a deep breath, soaking it up. Vanilla, cherry and… almonds? He stared at her and she stared back, a question in her eyes.

“This is trash,” she said, meaning the rest of their lunch, as if that’s what he was concerned about. Dumbly, he nodded and watched her drop it all in the trash can. His concentration, he thought, landed right under the remnants of her fried noodles. For the rest of the day, the only question he needed an answer to was: why. Why had she changed her perfume? Was there a reason? Had she bought it herself? Or was it a gift from someone? Someone special, even? Mulder didn’t ask any of his questions and let them fester in his mind. Instead, he glared at her, his eyes empty, his heart full.

“Mulder, are you all right? You look pale.”

“I think maybe it was the food,” he lied, tapping his pen, pretending to work.

“Funny, I feel fine.”

Of course, she did. It had to have been another man. It had to. That was the beginning of his sleepless night.

*

On his way to work, every radio station mocks him with gooey love songs until he caves and turns it off altogether. Mulder thinks it’s a sign. The reason Scully is wearing a new perfume is as obvious as a rose in bloom: she must be in love. She has found someone (who is not him), who makes her happy (not him) and buys her perfume (again, not him).

Scully is waiting for him in their office, her hip leaning against his desk. A smile flits across her face when she sees him. She grabs a couple of folders from the desk and thrusts them at him. Mulder catches them, uneasily.

“We’re almost late for our meeting with Skinner.”

“Meeting?” Her scent is turning him into a starry-eyed idiot, unsure what his own name is. His brain is running on low flame and it has decided to use all its energy on Scully. And her new perfume.

“Are you still sick, Mulder?”

“Sick?” he asks, subconsciously leaning forward. Scully doesn’t mind. Concern replaces her smile and she looks closely at his face.

“You still look pale. Did you throw up?”

“Did I- no,” he says, clearing his throat and realizing what she’s talking about. “I didn’t throw up. I didn’t- I didn’t sleep well.”

“Oh, Mulder.” Her voice is full of sympathy and the pat she gives his shoulder is, too. But she’s too close. His nostrils are on fire, sending maydays to his brain. “Are you feeling nauseated? Dizzy?”

“Dizzy. Definitely dizzy.” She touches the back of her hand to his forehead.

“You don’t feel warm. That’s good. Do you think you can make it through the meeting?”

Mulder nods. Though he isn’t sure at all. He should have had more coffee, he should have come prepared. He should have- Scully walks past him and leaves him in a cloud of her scent, taking his unfinished thoughts with her. Madness, he thinks, as his feet, on autopilot, follow her out of the office. The elevator appears smaller than it’s ever been. It’s only him, Scully and that smell of soft vanilla, luscious cherry and something he can’t identify, but that makes him want to lick her neck, her collarbone, her breasts. A blush shoots into his face; he has to stop this line of thinking and soon. Scully throws him a look just before the elevator dings and the doors open.

Who are all these people? Mulder can’t help but wonder as he’s pressed to the back of the elevator, Scully right in front of him, taking a step back, closer to him. There’s murmured talking in the tight air, awkward whispers, a cough. The air is not the only thing that’s tight, though. There’s no more space behind him and when the elevator stops on the second floor, no one gets out. Not a single person. Instead, he watches helplessly as more people step inside with apologetic smiles and shrugs. Scully, unaware of his predicament, makes room, undoubtedly smiling, too, because unlike him she’s polite.

What face is she making now, he thinks, as her ass comes into contact with his front where his penis is throbbing for attention. Mulder closes his eyes and starts counting. They’re on their way up anyway. If she wants to file for sexual harassment, she can do that right before their meeting with Skinner. Scully is efficient like that.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, trying to move his groin away from her. But his wiggling makes it even worse. “Scully, I’m so sorry,” he says again, keeping still. She’s quiet. So very quiet. If it weren’t for her damn perfume, he could pretend it isn’t even her. Just another redhead, someone he doesn’t know or care about, who he happens to be standing next to in an elevator. That, he realizes, would make it even worse.

That perfume. He’s holding his head as high up in the air as he can, hoping to get away from it. There’s no way. It’s lodged in his nostrils, has taken root in his mind, and even worse, in his body. Scully is wearing a new perfume and whoever she bought it for is a damn lucky bastard. Another floor, another moment to breathe. He’s ready to just fight his way to the door and take the stairs. Why didn’t he think of that earlier? The doors close and he sighs, his chance missed. Scully, in front of him, is as still as a statue, unmoving and silent.

Is she thinking of that guy? The other man?

There’s no way he can make this worse. He is wiggling constantly, his unabated erection poking her. It’s a wonder she hasn’t yet turned around and slapped him.

“Really sorry,” he says again, meaning it. If only she wasn’t wearing that perfume, or if he’d slept last night, and not thought about the new guy in her life, kissing her, making love to her. “Who- why did you- who is he?” He whispers, to himself, or to her. He doesn’t expect an answer and doesn’t get one.

The fourth floor is the charm. The elevator empties itself until only Mulder and Scully are left, still pressed against each other as if it were a necessity. Mulder holds his breath until the doors close and he can be sure they’re alone. He moves away from her, to bring some distance between them – his groin especially – and finds Scully staring at him with wide eyes.

“Scully, I am so, so sorry. I have no idea – what is that perfume you’re wearing? Why did you change it?” His words rush together in his need to get them out.

“You- my perfume caused this?” Sometimes he forgets that Scully is a medical doctor. An erection, even if it’s his, even if it’s poking her invitingly and inappropriately, she has no qualms about just pointing at it.

“You’ve never worn it before. Not until yesterday. And I’m so sorry, Scully. Truly. I didn’t mean to… do that.” Her eyes are bulging and he is not sure if it’s his words or his aroused state that’s causing this scene.

“I’m not offended, Mulder. This isn’t the first time this happens.” At least she doesn’t wink at him. The weight of his misdemeanor falls off him but he can’t shut up.

“I was wondering…why you changed your perfume.” This is the moment of truth. The anticipation is shrinking his erection, too. Finally.

“My mother gave it to me for my birthday.”

“Your birthday was months ago.”

She nods. “I didn’t feel like trying it out.” Until yesterday, apparently. He swallows hard, knows that he has no right to ask. He’s her friend and her partner. Professional. Yet the question slips out of his mouth, leaves his lips in a guilty whisper.

“Did you meet someone?”

She chuckles and steps closer to him. Her scent embraces him, touches him in all the right – and wrong – places. His penis, just as it was about to accept that nothing was happening, senses hope and throbs. 

Mulder groans. “Did you? Meet someone? Are you wearing it for him?”

“Mulder, do you know what my mother said when she gave me this?” He expects it to be a rhetorical question and remains quiet. Scully takes her sweet time before she continues. “She said ‘I think Fox would like this very much’,” she pauses and glances up at him, “because somehow she thinks you like cherries.”

“I do,” he croaks out. Maybe he’s mentioned it to Mrs. Scully once in passing. Right now he isn’t sure if he should thank or curse her. Maybe both. “Why- why did you- why now?”

The elevator dings; they’re here. In those two seconds it takes for the elevator to come to a full stop and open its doors, Scully leans close to him, her voice a breathy whisper right against his lips.

“I wanted to see if she was right.”

The man he’s been worried about all night is… him.


End file.
